by Cee Smith
Every moment I was alone, I was plotting ways to flee, starting with how to escape the confines of the room without alerting him. He hadn’t resumed chaining me to the bed, but I had no doubt I was being watched.
That still hadn’t stopped me from checking the perimeter of the space for a means to escape. There wasn’t anything especially fortifying about the room, aside from the fact that the dragon slept on the other side of my door. Between two large windows overlooking acres of snow-covered trees sat the iron canopy bed that I had been confined to for 22 hours out of the day. We were on the second story, so from the windows, it was at least a 20-foot drop onto compacted snow.
Directly across from the bed was a large eight-drawer dresser that reminded me of the vanity in his bathroom; it also had a French country feel to it. The dresser seemed to be filled with clothes that fit me. I watched Clema pull them out and position them at the end of the bed before my showers. I was a real living doll with interchangeable clothes and everything.
The chairs and small table were nestled off the right side of the bed, just to the right of the bathroom door. The opposite side of the room was nearly deserted with only a dainty nightstand and lamp and the door leading to Dominic’s room beyond.
Surprisingly, the room reminded me a lot of my room back home. The Bartholomews’ home was embellished with designer furniture typically seen in showrooms, but I chose to decorate my room with furniture more appropriate for my age. Dominic chose expensive furniture, as well, but his looked like luxurious antiques. There was something about this room that felt familiar. The layout. Did Dominic arrange this room to mimic the one I called home?
He alluded to the fact that he had watched me—just by simple things he let slip—but how much did he know about me? My mind cycled through all the times that I felt uncomfortable for no apparent reason other than a feeling I had. Had Dominic been watching me? He definitely had a face I would remember, so if he had been watching me, he had laid low enough that I didn’t recognize him.
The dragon strolled in just then and the light filtering through the sheer sheets highlighted the angles of his stubble-ridden jaw. Whether it was the silence of his appearance or his devil-may-care-attitude, I didn’t know, but his appearance was more devastating than ever. Did he leave me alone those last couple days just to torture me with his reappearance?
“Please…tell me what you want from me,” I blew out, sounding every bit as exasperated as I felt. I was emotionally and mentally beaten down from the thoughts that kept my mind pacing the cage to which I was confined. I was no longer chained, but it was never explicitly expressed that I could leave the room, and did I really want to go wandering while my muscles still ached from being sick and bedridden?
“You can’t keep me like this,” I continued.
“I can and I will. I’ve just come to check on you,” he said, leaning over me as if emphasizing the disparity in our sizes.
“How nice.”
He nodded to himself before taking a step back. “Get up. Now.” His words left me barely enough time to process his request before I was throwing back the sheets and stumbling from the bed. I don’t know if it was fear of this stranger that compelled me to move or if my body naturally followed his, but either way I found myself obeying his command. Nearly falling from the bed, I reached out and his hands gripped my shoulders, steadying me until my legs found balance. His energy coursed through his fingertips, leaving my shoulder feeling blistered and raw. His touch was something I hadn’t forgotten. In fact, I had spent the last couple days replaying the feelings over and over, trying to tear them apart and piece them together in a way that didn’t make me feel like I was losing my mind. There was no rationale for why he made me feel the way he did. It was too soon to call it Stockholm syndrome, and it definitely wasn’t a feeling I had experienced with other men, so I couldn’t define what it was exactly that made me feel so intrigued by him. It seemed there was something about the dragon that called to something in me. Regardless of how hard I tried to fight it, I couldn’t shake the way he made me feel.
“Follow me.” He walked towards the jack-and-jill closet, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure I was following before he continued speaking, “If you haven’t figured out by now, this is to be your new home. The room you are in is yours, although you will no longer be spending your nights here. You’ll be spending them with me in here.” His hand waved carelessly towards the bed, and I remembered that he slept near-naked and how my body felt immobilized by just a simple touch from him. How was I supposed to sleep next to that?
“Please, you can trust me. At least let me stay in the other room. You can cuff me if you want to. Please.” I was back to pleading with him, but I knew as soon as he turned to face me, there would be no bargaining with this man.
“Oh, Hailey.” As he said my name, he began fingering the ends of my hair and then yanked hard until my head was close to his mouth. “You think you can change my mind, but here’s something you’ll learn about me…what I say isn’t up for discussion.” The tears leaked from my eyes unannounced, but he continued unmoved by my display of distress.
We exited his bedroom. Directly across the hall was another door. We passed two more doors before we reached the staircase, and I barely had time to wonder what was behind those doors before we were descending the stairs. I followed two steps behind him as he prattled on about eating times. “Breakfast is served at 8 a.m., lunch at 1p.m., and dinner at 6 p.m. You will be at the dinner table promptly at those times.” The staircase opened up to a large open kitchen and adjoining dining room.
Clema passed in front of us as we came to the bottom of the stairs.
“Good morning,” she said hesitantly. She may not have been a prisoner here, but there was still something about Dominic that made even Clema pause. I would do good to make note of their every interaction; it may tell me more about the man who intended on keeping me.
Her body was positioned towards me, but her eyes remained focused on Dominic. This woman wasn’t his mother, though she was old enough to be. They had no physical commonalities that would show they were related, but their relationship seemed to be as close and as distant as family relationships tended to be.
My thoughts must have taken me away because when I looked at Dominic, his expectant eyes penetrated me down to my soul, leaving me feeling cold despite the sweater I was bundled up in.
“Good morning,” I muttered as I stared at some darkened groove I found in the wood floor next to her foot.
“Leave your sullen attitude for times when you’re in your room. It’s unwelcome here.” The word sullen spit from his mouth like a bad taste on his tongue, and once again, tears coated my eyelashes threatening to fall, but I sniffed them back. I wouldn’t let him break me down emotionally, not this way at least. There were plenty of other things he could do that could make me cry, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. He would have to earn my tears. I hung back a couple steps, feeling every bit the scolded child he made me feel as we continued through the bottom level of the house.
The house had recently been remodeled, with the smell of fresh paint still clinging to the walls. Each room was painted a different color, but they were of the same hue, so collectively they worked well together. Rich eggplant colored the walls of the office, hunter green for what looked to be a guest bedroom, peacock blue for the hallway, and mustard yellow for the dining room. It was like walking through a kaleidoscopic labyrinth, but aside from the oversized stuffy furniture and mesmerizing color changes, I couldn’t take my eyes off the man that led me through each room.
His sweater clung to his skin, showcasing the bulk of muscles that had infiltrated my thoughts since I had seen him shirtless two days prior. I wondered what they felt like. Adam’s was the only body I’d seen up close and he didn’t have near the muscle depth that Dominic had. Plus, Adam was more like a brother, so when he took his shirt off, it was just an extension of his face to me—not something to gawk at.
Dominic half-turned his face, allowing me a glimpse of his profile. He grinned as if he read my thoughts, and I wanted nothing more than to pore over every part of his face and, at the same time, slap him.
When we stepped inside the living room, the floor-to-ceiling walls revealed a scene straight out of National Geographic. One sheet of glass ran two stories high, hiding within it a seamless door to the outside. Snow danced upon the barren trees, leaving mounds of white piled on the ground. I felt like we were in a snow globe waiting patiently until all the snow drifted to the bottom.
I remembered being upstairs and looking out at the ocean of white, but it felt so different down there. No longer sick, I took the time to appreciate the wonder of it. I’d never seen snow in real life, and all I wanted to do was throw open the door and dash outside, with outstretched arms, embracing the white specks flitting about.
My nose pressed against the glass, and it wasn’t until Dominic took a step closer that I remembered him standing there. Was he just as enamored as I was? I looked at the reflection of the glass and saw him watching me. His hands twitched as if he were physically restraining them. I walked perpendicular to the glass until I reached the door, “Can I?” I breathed, still not facing him.
“You may, but Hailey,” he paused waiting for me to turn around before he finished, “if I have to chase you…you’ll be very sorry. I’ll make sure of it.”
He spoke barely above a whisper, and his words chilled me more than the ice coating the ground outside. When I looked in his eyes, he gave me a slight nod. Whether to reinforce his words or to tell me I could go, I wasn’t sure, but I needed fresh air like it was my last breath.
I opened the door, and a blast of cold air rushed in, sweeping my hair from my neck.
“Wait.”
I stopped just inside the door and watched Dominic walk across the living room to a coat closet, where he removed a black parka from behind the door. He pulled it up against my back, bundling me in until I put out my arms, which he soon covered with the sleeves of the coat. It felt like such an intimate moment. Something about it reminded me of the man who held my hair and rubbed my back when I was heaving up my lungs in his toilet, not the man whose threats were still ringing in my ears. I couldn’t keep up with his mercurial moods. The most I could do was stay quiet until I found a way to escape. I could do some research while outside and with that I fastened the jacket closed and stepped out into the blistering cold.
You can’t keep her inside forever. I had to keep chanting this to myself every time she took a step away from the house. The twenty acres surrounding the property were heavily wooded, but there was nothing for miles beyond that. Essentially, there was nowhere she could go that I wouldn’t find her. Sure, she could hide behind trees, and I would have to look for her, but she would pass out from the cold before actually making it to the perimeter.
I liked watching her like this—out of her element. Whenever I’d seen her around the water, she looked at home, at peace, like she knew all the secrets the ocean held. Here, she knew nothing. I was surprised she hadn’t asked where she was yet, but then again she never even asked for my name. It didn’t matter though because she found it out anyway. Another thing that pissed me off about Dr. Reynolds—he just threw my name around like a soiled dish towel, passing it around like it held no value.
She took a tentative step into a thick pile of snow, and I watched her body plummet a few feet until she was submerged to her knees. Her upper body lunged forward, but her legs stayed firmly imbedded where she was. She looked around, a flash of worry crossing those beautiful blue eyes. I hung back on the back porch watching her. Will she ask for my help? Since I had taken her, she’d shown me a fierce stubborn streak. Surprisingly, I liked it.
It had been so long since I’d had someone stand up to me, to challenge me. I had spent most of my childhood and nearly all of my adulthood surrounded by people giving me exactly what I wanted when I wanted it, so having her was refreshing in a way.
Her eyes darted to me on the porch before focusing back on the pile she was stuck in. Every time she tried to move, she seemed to wiggle beneath the snow a little deeper, but by the look she gave me, she would have rather caught hypothermia than ask for my help.
I walked over to where she stood, not immediately helping her out, but standing over her.
“I’m not a complete monster. If you’d just ask for help, I would get you out.” My mouth was so close to her ear; I could feel her body heat against my lips. I wanted to pull her hair while I kissed her neck and licked her ear. Her bronze skin against the white snow made my muscles tense with want. What would it be like to rip her clothes off and lay her out against the snow feeling her beneath me?
She huffed and said in a quiet voice, “Can you help me out?” I wanted to see how far I could go, “Is that how you ask?” She looked up at me with hate-filled eyes and flared nostrils, “Please,” she gritted out.
I could have easily grabbed her hand and pulled her out, but what fun would that be when I could have her little body between my palms. My hands started high on her ribcage, beside her breasts, before trailing down her slim waste. When I reached right above her hips I clamped both hands down and lifted her until she was level with me. I didn’t immediately remove my hands and she didn’t move away from my grip either. We both stood there with transfixed eyes, plumes of hot air puffing white clouds between us. My hands twitched to pull open her coat and get closer to her skin. It was too soon, and I wanted to be able to take my time our first time together—not worry that my balls would freeze.
I released my hands, and she took a step back towards the house.
“Thanks,” she said as she leaned over to brush the bottom of her soaked pants. I watched her eyes roam the property while she pretended to continue wiping her legs. Hailey was smart; though I threatened her not to flee, I knew she wouldn’t. It would be too much of a risk for her. Her sister might have tried to pull something as dangerous as trying to escape me at that moment—when I appeared to be kicking up freshly fallen snow, had hands relaxed in pockets, and was wandering around aimlessly in circles. Hailey, however, just stood back up, taking it all in. She was a planner for sure.
What Hailey didn’t know was tucked between the back of my pants was a small pistol with enough tranquilizer to knock her out for the next eight hours. I knew it was unnecessary, but I found it was better to be prepared for any outcome.
“Is all of this yours?”
This was the first time she had engaged me in conversation, and her voice sounded smooth almost lyrical in her question.
“Yes. There’s about twenty or so acres. The land is fenced off, but a lot of wild animals still live on the property, so don’t stray too far.” She shook her head acknowledging my words and I continued, “You’ve already met Clema, but Scout is someone else who works for me. You’re only allowed to be out here with him or me. He has permission to shoot you if he sees you outside alone.”
I watched her eyes flare in shock with my last words. They weren’t true, well at least not in the context she thought. He was allowed to shoot her with a tranquilizer gun, not real ammo. She was too valuable for that.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes. I understand. Can you—Can you tell me where I am?”
“You’re in South Dakota.” Her eyes lit up with curiosity, but she asked no more questions, and I found myself disappointed when she didn’t say anything else.
We walked around for a little while longer. She didn’t move beyond five feet from where I stood, an invisible leash tying her to me. It was as if we orbited around each other, whether naturally or not I couldn’t tell, but when she moved in a direction, I found myself following, and when I pulled in an opposite direction, I watched her mimic me.
I noticed that as she learned how to navigate through the snow, her foot would pat the ground lightly before she moved both feet to a new position. She was adapting, adjusting to the new element.
“You don’t know me.”
“Hailey Amelia Duncan. Twenty-two years old. Twin sister, Jessa. Parents died in a car accident when you were ten. You go to Cal Poly studying Business Administration. You don’t smoke. You sometimes drink. You have an allergy to strawberries. Take birth control for heavy periods, otherwise, in good health. You need glasses, though you don’t use them. You love the water, and every vacation you take is somewhere near water. You’re right-handed. You’ve never had a serious boyfriend. Tell me, does that mean you’re a virgin?” She stood frozen—her body, her face, her breath.
She lunged at me, tripping over mounds of snow to reach me, and I stood waiting, as immovable as the trees beyond me. Her hands swung through the air with no insight into where they’d land—my guess was anywhere, so long as she made a connect.
“Ahhhhhh!” she yelled, her voice echoing through the forest while she pushed through the snow with swift feet. Her foot must have snagged on something because, in a flash, she was falling into me, her chest colliding into my waist while her hands flew like rotor blades through the air. One slapped at my chest, and the other hit across my knees before I effectively had her arms pinned beneath mine.
Her chest heaved against my stomach, melting like hot butter as she tried to right herself.
“Why are you doing this to me? Please. Please—just let me go.”
“You know I can’t, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. Come on, it’s time for lunch.” I pulled her up by her arm until she could stand on her own and led her back inside. She walked across the room to the coat closet, her lithe little body wiggled out of the coat, placing it on the hanger, before turning back to face me. She waited in front of the closet like a pet, and I tried to mask my surprise. I loved watching her—how she moved in my house as if it were hers.